


My Heart Could Beat

by Iruthb



Category: Birds of Prey (Comic), DCU (Comics)
Genre: AU - Oracle and Dinah's first meeting, Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Drabble, Gen, mention of sexual assault/reference to the killing joke, mostly feels, very little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1486390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iruthb/pseuds/Iruthb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Oracle and Dinah finally meet, it's not the way either of them wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Heart Could Beat

She was feeling dizzy, weak. The world was more sluggish than it should have been and everything sounded muted, distant, like she was underwater, except for the loud thundering drumming of her blood pumping through her head. At some point, she'd been knocked out of her chair, and it had rolled several feet away. It wouldn't take long to get to, but there were more important things on Barbara's mind. Where was Dinah? There had been gunfire, loud bangs that reminded her of laughter and camera shutter clicks, and Barbara had lost control. Lost control of the situation, lost control of her head as the panic had surged in, and because of it she'd lost Dinah. She had to be okay, she had to be! Holding her torso up with trembling arms - why was she suddenly feeling so weak? - Barbara looked around frantically, until she spotted the familiar blonde hair and fishnets running towards her. Dinah almost crashed to her knees in front of her, looking both horrified and uncertain. "Oracle," she asked, looking Barbara up and down, her eyes focussing on Barbara's unresponsive legs in horror, her lip trembling.

"Babs," Barbara corrected, suddenly feeling cold, but oddly at peace in a place littered with bodies. Something warm and wet touched her hand, making Barbara look down for the first time. Underneath her was a pool of dark red blood, slowly growing out. Uncomprehendingly, she followed the pool to its source; strong hands were already covering the wound, but blood was pulsing out relentlessly. There were bone fragments sticking out of her skin, and Barbara finally understood, looking up at Dinah. Tears were streaming down the other woman's face, and she was saying something, yelling something Barbara couldn't hear. The whole world shrank down to those tears. Dinah swam in and out of focus as Barbara felt weaker and weaker, her tongue too heavy to warn the other woman it was too late. Even when her brain was refusing to cooperate, Barbara knew how much blood you could lose before you were dead, and there was too much around them, staining everything it touched. When her arms gave out, Barbara fell into someone else's arms. She should have been afraid, should have been disgusted that a bullet had violated her again, that she was going to die, but all Barbara felt was weak. When the world focussed again, she realised Dinah wasn't the only one there. Dick was shaking her, grit coating his beautiful face, and not even his mask could hide the tears that spilled over. Her dancing partner and her best friend, both trying in vain to keep her alive, and Barbara couldn't find the strength to tell them it wasn't worth it. She weakly reached for Dinah, trying to see her face one last time. It was marred and red with tears, and as Dinah took her hand Barbara's blood was slick between them. "Sorry," she tried to whisper, but she didn't know if they ever heard it.

After that, Barbara didn't see much of anything, anymore. She didn't see how Dinah shook her or screamed at her or how she tilted Barbara's head back to start mouth to mouth, or how Dick lowered her to the ground, letting go before starting to push a beat into her heart, following the pattern they'd learnt long ago. She didn't see how his hands were knocked away by gloved ones, how Bruce took over the CPR, his mask hiding the fear that his desperate pushes gave away. If she had, Barbara would have told them that they were the people her heart would beat for, if no one else, that if she'd had a choice, she would have stayed for them.

But she didn't see. The last thing Barbara Gordon saw was a white face with a leering red grin, a smoking gun, and scissors that snipped through the fabric of her dress.

Then she saw nothing.

And she was no one.

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive me, I wrote this at 1 am with no plot in mind, just the image of Barbara going out like this.


End file.
